Cause of Death
Chapter 1
This is the game crossed with NCIS. I'm not particularly a computer games or video games or whatever kind of person, the product of growing up on a farm I suppose. But due to a very lucky spoiled Christmas and a resultant ipad and app store and visa card I found a little game called cause of death that I am now obsessed with. And I love NCIS LA so why not mix them up a bit? : ) Hope you like!
All the characters will come into it from NCIS it will just take some time : )
A slight rusting sound echoed throughout the silent cabin, the only sound to break the quiet. The sound of mice scampering on the dirty wooden floor in the shadows or perhaps a pencil scratching against coarse sandpaper. On one side of the room a tall man stood at a workbench, the source of the noise. He methodically laid out tools on the bench so absorbed in his work that he didn't notice any movement of the sole other person in close proximity. He uncovered, one by one, tools from a canvas bag, first a scalpel, followed by a palette knife and finally a bucket.
Her body remained still but her head rolled to the side as she awoke, her knotted red hair pulling slightly and her eyes widening as she took in her surroundings and the actions of the man several feet away. With too much to digest in only a few moments her chest began to rise and fall too quickly as she began to panic. Her eyes flittered around the very small room and she didn't even notice that she had been holding her breath. Fearful to make a sound. She could barely make out a narrow flight of stairs in the far corner and only then did she realise that she was lying on a bench that was identical to the one the man stood in front of.
He wore a black jacket, the hood pulled over his head and dark khaki pants. He was tall but on the lean side. Her breathing quickened once more knowing she had to do something, knowing how wrong this was. Bile rose in her throat and tears welled in her eyes as she tried to think back, how had she gotten there? Her eyes found the small doorway at the top of the stairs once more and she wriggled her fingers and toes. All she knew was that she has to leave, she had to run, she had to get out. Away. Fast.
Her heart accelerated loudly and her eyes moved back to the man wondering if he could hear the thuds that were echoing around her head, around the room. Using the corner of the wall she braced herself before swinging her feet around and cautiously stepping on the ground her eyes focused intently on the back of the mans head, pleading he wouldn't notice.
Her heart stopped, her breathing ceased, her body froze and her blood ran icy cold when the floorboard squeaked loudly beneath her foot. Tears escaped her eyes but she barely noticed as she gripped the workbench her knuckles turning white. The man turned suddenly, dropping the palette knife, swiveling on his heel and she gasped loudly. Her eyes bulged out from their sockets when she captured a glimpse of him. His face was obscured by a mask, a plain white, plaster mask. And it was something worse than any horror movie she'd ever convinced herself to sit through. The man charged towards her suddenly and all she could do was push herself away from the bench heading frantically towards the stairs. Her legs shook like jelly, unsteady, barely able to hold her upright and she cursed them, cursed herself, cursed the man she could hear only footsteps behind her. Her feet felt like lead as she dragged them up the stairs that creaked louder than the floorboards. But she had to get out. She had to get out.
A scream filled the air when she emerged through the door and a loud sob followed. Her throat closed over as she spun around searching for some way out. The deck of the boat she had found herself trapped on was just as grungy as the cabin had been. Sobs wracked her chest and she couldn't come up with an answer to get out. To get away.
"No, no, no, no, no, no, no" she heard her voice, distant. Carried away by the wind she wished could carry her too.
And then she screamed, loudly, shrilly. Her eyes searched the horizon, over the choppy water but found nothing. Nothing except for the rocky shores of an island only just visible. She fell, her knees giving out, as the boat rocked harshly and her knees sliced open but she barely felt it,
"No, no, no, no, no please, oh god please, please, please, help, HELP ME!" the ocean spray stung against her flushed cheeks. She backed away when he finally emerged and she could only sob harder as her eyes caught sight of a syringe he gripped in his left hand. Her back hit the hull and she peered down only seeing choppy waves pounding the boat,
"Please, Please, please don't hurt me!" she pleaded, begged, whatever it took. She knew nothing was okay. That this was bad. How had she gotten there? How had this happened?
"Please…please just let me go. I'll give you whatever you want" there was no answer from the man instead he simply stalked towards her only causing her tears to rain down harder,
"Yes, yes you will" the words were almost lost in the wind and his voice was nothing like she expected but the words sent a fear through her unlike she'd ever known. Her mouth fell open as if she'd been wanting to say more, trying to say more but she could only shake her head in horror.
Suddenly the man reached forward his arm shooting out towards her until his fingers closed around the top of her arm tightly, vice-like. He jerked violently on her arm pulling upwards until she was once again on her feet. They both heard the sound of her shoulder popping and she screamed at the agonizing pain that erupted in her arm. For a moment she saw white dots, a thousand lights.
"No more running" the man stated simply and she couldn't pull away, she couldn't move. So much pain. Her arm wouldn't cooperate. A brief thought ran through her mind that she might be in shock. Numb.
With surgical precision the man stuck the syringe into her neck. She made no sound but acknowledged the deck beginning to spin within only seconds. It went blurry and it was only his mask she could still make out. The white plaster that made her feel sick. Who was he? It was then that the pain was relieved in the most merciful way and she heaved in a deep breath. It was only then she realised she couldn't move, anything. Stuck, paralysed.
She was swung up into his arms, carelessly and she couldn't protest. With movement or her words. He carried her below deck once again and returned her to lay on the workbench for the second time.
"Don't worry I'm not going to hurt you" there was no relief at his words. She couldn't close her eyes and they were stinging so painfully. As if all the salt in the sea had infected them. He turned to his own workbench and dipped the palette knife into the bucket and then a million terrifying thoughts ran through her mind at once and she thought nothing all at the same time as a layer of plaster was applied across her face.
"I'm just going to show the world your true face"
His eyes search the familiar building that he's only stepped inside a few times over the past week. Less than he has in years,
His eyes find Nates first and he nods and the operational psychologist speaking to another employee nods and offers Callen a smile. It's then that a familiar voice filters into his mind and he smirks slightly craning his head to catch sight of his favourite agent. She paces angrily, looking right at home, yelling into the phone and he can't help but feel for the person on the end of the phone receiving an angry Portuguese rant. He won't interrupt her yet, maybe wait for her to find him he'd seen her several days ago and he hopes she's better than she was then. Instead his eyes turn back to where Sam has moved to an office in a corner that is undeniably Hetty.
He catches the end of their conversation and smirks once again seeing Sam fish out money handing it to the operations manager. Though everything's changed he's glad to see that some things have still remained the same.
"Mr Callen you're not due back for a week" she remarks when her sharp gaze lands on him, though he notes that he hasn't surprised her. Not that much does.
"I missed your sunny smile Hetty" he answers and she considers him, unimpressed with his response. Her response though is not one of consternation or irritation which he appreciates. He knows, that if she was against him being there he wouldn't be. He will owe her…once again.
"We need to update your biometrics, new photos for drivers licences, passports, general backstopping not to speak of documents, credit cards and so forth. And ….wardrobe" she sighs and he frowns glancing down at himself. He catches Sam smirk but doesn't pay his partner any attention. He wonders if all she's talking about is necessary but knows that after everything that's happened things will be changing. Everything will change.
"Problems with the neighbours?" she enquires gesturing towards the large bag looped over one of his shoulders and the swag swung over his other,
"Something like that"
"Huh, well don't even think about unrolling that disgusting thing in here" with that she turns and moves back towards her desk. He can only smile as Sam walks towards him pocketing his lighter wallet,
"I think she's mellowed" Callen remarks,
"Yeah I think I'm in love" his partner quips stalking away from Hetty's office. They slow outside what Callen assumes to be their new bullpen of sorts. Kensi has disappeared from view but he can see her things scattered over the large table in the centre.
Callen's answer is interrupted by a sharp whistle and he and Sam simultaneously peer up to see Eric arrive on the balcony above,
"Heads up, the directors coming online" his eyes then move towards where they stand and he smiles,
"Hey Callen" the senior agent replies with his own greeting before a new voice behind them interrupts,
"Well it's about time" he turns a smile growing on his lips,
"Kensi, my favourite agent" he greets as he steps forward to embrace the woman. He can see the sadness in her eyes, the pain that's still there but he's glad to see it's lessened maybe just slightly. It's been almost two months since everything changed and he remembered seeing her all but fall on the stairs as he'd turned away from his partner desperately trying to save Dom's life.
"I thought you'd callously abandoned us to join the FBI" he scoffs at her teasing words pulling back. It's unspoken, everything that's happened, it hasn't changed in the week he's been away. For that he's glad.
"Ah once was enough" she smiles and Nate arrives a moment later,
"You get a note from your doctor?" he rolls his eyes,
"You're my doctor Nate" Kensi smiles at the conversation ensuing before her and glances at Sam before the two head for the stairs leaving Nate and Callen to follow.
"Yeah but I just get to mess around in your head" Callen listens as Nate rambles a list of symptoms not unfamiliar to him,
"Yeah all of them" Nate turns his head sharply towards Callen frowning,
"Before I got shot" he continues and the psychologist shakes his head ignoring the agent. Before long the room full of Eric's toys is darkened and the directors face appears on the screen,
"Callen what do you know of the mask maker case?"
"Been across the news enough" Callen answered,
"You don't even have a television" Sam murmured and Callen glanced at his partner in amusement before turning back to the screen,
"Thought FBI was still riddling it out" the director sighed,
"They were when all the victims were your normal every day citizens. The latest victim's the daughter of lieutenant David Patterson, the case is ours now, hopefully we can find a new angle to take this from. Keep me updated I've forwarded Hetty with the details of the ca…" the director trailed off and Callen didn't need to turn to know why the director was cut off,
"Thank you Leon" the director only nodded once before the screen turned to black and the team turned to Hetty who stood with a thick folder in her hands,
"This is the third murder matching this M.O. that has occurred in three months. The victims were young women, caucasian, age 20-25, who washed up dead near the waterfront. All of them had plaster masks molded to their faces, Mr Beale" the sound of Eric's fingers flying over his keyboard caused them all to turn back to the screen only to see three images appear to illustrate Hetty's dark bedtime story.
"We haven't been able to definitively ID this latest victim and wont' be able to until we run her DNA against a comparison sample but the student ID in her wallet states she's Sophie Patterson of Stanford University. The first body washed up on a beach north of the marina, the second was caught in the nets near fisherman's wharf"
"What was the cause of death?" Nate asks,
"Strangulation for the first two victims. According to autopsy the masks were made post-mortem"
"Any sign of a struggle?" Sam asked his eyes moving back to the victims as he leaned back on the centre table,
"The first two victims exhibited no sings of struggle, no signs of sexual assault. Both victims had traces of chloroform in their systems"
"So he drugged them, strangled them, then made masks of their faces?" Eric asked flicking through more images he was quickly gaining access to. Callen could hear the slight infliction of horror in his voice, not that he could blame the technician.
"A little more delicately perhaps Mr Beale but yes" Hetty replied grimly,
"For all we know, the women were knocked out when they died. They may not have felt a thing"
"How very gentle of him, any leads?" Callen remarked,
"No that appears to have been the most infuriating aspect for the bureau" Hetty said,
"Forensics recovered little to nothing significant on any of the bodies. No witnesses, no DNA, no-one in the system with priors matching this M.O."
"Well it is rather unique" Sam interjected and Hetty could only nod in agreement,
"The killer is precise, methodical and extremely efficient. He knows who to target and how to cover his trail"
"He'll slip up, they always do" Callen said after a beat and Sam nodded beside him.
"Now if you could track him down before he decides to practice his craft once more that would be most appreciated"
"I've sent the address to your phones" Eric said and Callen felt a rush of the familiar adrenaline he'd been without for three months,
"Good to have you back Callen" Kensi said as the three of them left the office.
Please leave a quick review? Should I continue? I know there's not much of a plot or anything really yet but more's coming
Thanks for reading